Away From Her
by colormerainbows21
Summary: What happens when the one you truly loved slips through your fingers? Why are we so willing to sacrifice what we deserve to please someone else? Main pairing is Olivia/Melinda, slightly AU, rated M for heavy content and some language. I apologize for any little formatting issues I may have been unable to correct after uploading no matter how much fiddling/editing I've done!
1. Chapter 1

**Away From Her**

A/N: Hey everyone! Gosh I'm so sorry that I haven't been around in forever! Life has been pretty busy, and that coupled with prolonged bouts of writer's block has caused me to be away from writing for you all for quite a while. That being said, I had some free time, the creative juices decided to start to flow again, resulting in this story coming out of me. I'm aware that I have other things up that have yet to be completed; I have hit a bit of a wall with those stories, but I promise when the time is right I will get back to them and they will have an ending. I would rather leave certain things unfinished and move on to something new than sit and force it out of myself, giving you all less than stellar things to read. I hope you all can be understanding of this, and know that no matter what I appreciate all of your thoughts and your patience during my gaps in updates.

This story veers away from my usual ships (Olivia/Alex, Olivia/Casey, Olivia/Elliot) and is, I'd imagine, going to be a little different than the things I have previously written. The main pairing is Olivia/Melinda, although there will be some others along the way. It will alternate between the two ladies' points of view, and I will put a bit of a trigger warning here that there very well could be some heavy/emotional things that may be difficult for some people to read. I'm not entirely sure just where I may take it as it's not totally set in my head, and I often write as inspiration strikes. If you're not into the main ship, please simply don't read any further, because that much I know will not change. I haven't seen too many Olivia/Melinda stories here, but I know there are a few of us shippers out there who love the idea of them even if realistically it won't happen!

This story will be slightly AU(Hey, the beauty of fanfiction, right? ;]) starting off with flashbacks of both of the ladies' younger years, and Melinda is not a Medical Examiner for SVU, but a psychiatrist out of state. Olivia is a detective for SVU in NYC when the story is in the present tense, and Casey is an ADA outside of SVU. That's all I'm going to say as explanation so as not to give too much away. If you've read this complete author's note, I applaud you. Sometimes I tend to ramble even if that doesn't start out as my intention. Just wanted to give you guys a bit of an explanation on everything. I will end this here and get to the good stuff. ;) Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to everyone as well! Have a safe and happy season! 

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Law and Order SVU, nor any affiliated characters. Any additional characters/situations existing within this work of fiction are figments of my own imagination not intended to resemble any real persons or their lives.

_People always tell teenagers that their loves won't last. As if tenderness of age disallows for knowledge, for self awareness. Are we really supposed to believe that our feelings mean nothing, just because we're not as old as those who tell us as much? I'm not saying that I've never changed my mind, or made mistakes. I have, so has everybody else, but there are certain things I've never raised into question. Specific feelings and thoughts I've just known to be the truth of myself, no matter how frequently outside forces try to sway me from them._

_I've always known that I couldn't deal with the idea of being away from her. Now that the possibility of that looms ever so closely, weighs on me so heavily, I actually feel physically ill. I know I will have to tell her, but I can't. Not yet. I need calm. Allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness through the few glistening tears threatening to fall, I look to the opposite side of me, taking in the beauty that she so embodies. I note as I have done a thousand and one times before, the way her chest rises and falls consistently, making me aware of the peaceful state she's in, so often only an occurrence while she's asleep; the way her hair falls loosely and freely over her face, without her being bothered by it, and the way she tucks one of her hands into the inside of the pillowcase only when sleeping on her stomach. All of this makes me fall in love with her over and over again every night. _

_"__Mmm?" _

_I hear the sound of her stirring, and I instantly feel guilty. I knew the intimacies that had been shared between us earlier in the evening must've worn her out, but it was like we were in sync with one another enough that she knew instinctively what I was feeling in moments where I needed her to know the most. I often wondered if my thoughts themselves could rouse her out of the deepest of slumbers, silent though they were. _

_"__Shh, baby it's okay. Go back to sleep. Everything is fine," I hoped I sounded convincing enough. _

_"__No."_

_Almost completely awake now, she sounded borderline defiant. I knew I wasn't going to win this one as she propped herself up on one elbow, chocolate eyes boring deep into mine. I silently hoped my parents wouldn't decide to come home in the middle of our conversation, causing me to have to find new ways to hide her presence._

_"__What's the matter?"_

_"__Nothing," I muttered, gulping to suppress the lump forming in my throat. _

_"__That's bullshit, and you know it. Don't hide things from me, Melinda. I can't deal with cryptic shit, not at this hour."_

_The way she used my full name was a clear indication that she wasn't fucking around. She did this often in instances where she wanted to let me know she was serious._

_"__You know that for as long as we've been doing this, my parents have been against us." _

_The lack of inflection in my voice was indicative of this being a statement of fact rather than a question, but Liv didn't seem to take it that way._

_"Yeah, so? It's not the easiest thing in the world, sneaking around, having to be somewhat of a secret, but it's never changed how I feel. You should know that by now."_

_"__I do know that," I told her this with the utmost sincerity my voice would allow given the hour, hoping beyond all power I possessed that it would at least somehow make up for what I was about to say. "But we're leaving."_

_Bewilderment flashed fleetingly across her features, leaving what I knew to be sadness in its wake. _

_"__Leaving? What the hell do you mean, leaving?"_

_"__We're moving, out of state. I know they've threatened it many times if I continued to see you, but I can't stop them this time, Olivia, I can't. I've done everything I possibly could have done. When being honest didn't work, I'd bring you around while they were gone, thinking hiding would work. They still always find out. I always saw their threats as empty ones, but I was wrong. They've already taken new job offers. You know that they think this is a phase, that we're not right for each other."_

_"__Why?! Because we're women? You're black and I'm white?! That makes our love less valuable than anyone else's? You don't actually believe that horseshit, do you?!"_

_Flashes of anger came in waves across her face, and as much as my heart broke for both of us, I had trouble controlling my own._

_"__Of course I don't! How could you even think that?! You think I would've fought so hard to be with you if I believed them? I could have given up a long time ago, but I didn't."_

_"__If you care so much, why are you giving up now?"_

_As much as I wanted to throw in the towel, I knew I couldn't give in to the exhaustion that was attempting to overtake my body until the conversation was at least some satisfactory version of over. _

_"__I have to, Olivia! They're my parents. I can only do so much. They won't let me stay here, I'm sorry."_

_"__Where are you going?"_

_"__London," I said, intentionally letting it roll off my tongue slowly, knowing that if it had a flavor it would taste like poison. _

_"__Like, London England, London?!"_

_"__That's the one," I said, trying to stifle my emotions._

_"__Fuck, Mel. That's like as far from here as you could possibly get!"_

_"__Yeah, I'm pretty sure that was half my parents' intention."_

_She paused a minute, almost as if she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to the question she was about to ask. _

_"__Well, when do you leave?"_

_"__Next week."_

_"__But that's right before Christmas! You can't leave me here by myself with my mother."_

"I know it is. I don't like it either, but I don't have much of a choice."

_"__I could follow you. It's not like I have much to stay here for."_

_"__No. No, Olivia, you are not giving up your dream of being a cop just to follow me around the world. I know how much it means to you, and it's the only thing you've had to hold on to through all of your shitty home life. I can't ask you to give it up," I said, hoping my voice conveyed that there was no room for discussion. _

_"__But I just want to be with you." _

_"__And you will be," I told her, the desperation in her eyes doing a number on my insides. "Everything will work itself out, I promise."_

_I hoped that I hadn't made a promise that would come up empty, that I wouldn't become yet another failure to her._

"Yeah, well fuck you, too!"

I heard her voice loud, clear and angry as she walked in, almost throwing her phone onto the corner table in the foyer. I've been known to say her temperament often matches her hair colour, and I can't even count how many personal phones she's broken during temporary fits of rage, seemingly forgetting ours are not as durable as the old school flip ones we use for work.

"I'm home," she said, anger still apparent. I was thankful it wasn't directed at me.

"I noticed." As I moved closer and embraced her in a hug, I felt her relax a little against the feeling of my fingers.

"Who was it that made you so mad?" I asked as we pulled apart.

"My sister."

"Which one?"

"Alyssa"

I rolled my eyes and stifled the laugh that was threatening to escape from deep within the pit of my stomach. "Do I even wanna ask what happened?"

"Probably not, no. What are you doing home before me, anyway?"

"We just wrapped up a really tough case. Cragen told us to go home and get some sleep. After my week, I wasn't about to argue."

"No, you leave the arguing to me," she said and winked at me, making me laugh.

"I try to," I pulled her to me again, kissing her, but she didn't grant me the access to the inside of her mouth that I wanted.

"Liv?"

"Mmm?" I broke away, knowing something serious had to be coming, dreading an argument when all I needed was sleep.

"Have you thought anymore about what we talked about? Y'know, babies?"

I ran my hands haphazardly over my face and sighed deeply into them, as if this would somehow mask the exasperation I'd been feeling.

"Jesus Christ, Casey, I don't know. I'm so tired. Do we have to do this now?"

"If we wait until you're not tired, we'll never discuss it, Liv. You're a cop, you're always tired. You're always gonna have an excuse."

"I'm sorry if my excuses aren't good enough for you, but I'm so busy out there trying to save other people's children from this screwed up society, that I'm not left with much time to plan for my own!"

"Yeah, that's exactly the problem! What the hell do I even mean to you, Olivia? Really?"

As I watched her storm off toward our bedroom, what she always did, in a fight, I thought of the conversation about love that Elliot and I had had at work that day, about the question he had asked, that I hadn't been able to answer.

_"__Do you love her?"_

I hadn't realized it then, but standing here now, I knew that the red hair, firecracker personality, piercing eyes, were not what I loved. Love was the dark brown curls, eyes even deeper than my own; the sunny disposition that lacked no empathy yet tolerated no nonsense, the brown skin that made me look like a ghost and the laugh that was rarely heard, but could warm a room. Love was someone I hadn't thought of in years, but wondered too, if I could ever actually forget. I wondered if I could be one of those people who became infinitely skilled at putting on a charade. I didn't know. Maybe all the answers I needed were within the memories imprinted on pieces of paper, stuffed in an old shoebox in the back of my closet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Away From Her**

**Chapter 2**

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Law and Order SVU or any affiliated characters. Any additional characters and/or situations created within this work of fiction are intended to bear no resemblance to real persons or their lives, and are figments of my own imagination.

"And how does that make you feel, when that happens?"

I sat in my office chair, across from the young blonde haired, blue eyed, pimply faced girl sprawled out on the couch which all psychiatrists and psychologists are presumed to have in their practices. I experienced a short moment of self loathing when I realized exactly how stereotypical I had come across. I had vowed to myself from the beginning I would make known my job was much more than sitting in a chair, pushing a pen across paper, asking people how they feel about their lives. It was. It was the prescribing of necessary medications to aid in one's healing, the attention, help, and new perspective that often meant the difference between the loss of a life, or return of one. They say that in a profession such as mine, you have to detach, or you'll burn out. I guess to some degree that's true, but I keep my heart as open as I possibly can. You take your work home with you no matter what, even if you're not supposed to. Those who say they don't are lying. You don't have to be an emotional person to at least have that one patient who crawls into your heart and stays there forever. The one lying across from me didn't know it, but she was one of those.

"How the fuck do you think it makes me feel?! Fucking angry! I hate my life!"

"Leah, I understand that you're struggling and upset, and you can say anything you want here and I won't chastise you or take it outside of this office unless it becomes apparent to me that you're a danger to yourself or someone else, but you're gonna have to elaborate a little more if you want my help. Six months of telling me you're angry at your parents isn't really enough for me to truly help you, and I want to be able to."

"You don't wanna do nothin'! You're paid to care about people, it ain't real."

The drawl in her voice, thick and soothing like honey, yet tinged with a hoarseness that was no doubt the result of a bad smoking habit started very early on, told me she was from somewhere that rested a world away from England, though I had yet to figure out where.

"That's true, this is my job, and it is a job I'm paid for, but that doesn't mean my feelings toward any of my patients are disingenuous. As I get to know more, I want to do more to help. I often care too much, actually."

Some flash of an emotion I hadn't seen in the last six months of our relationship crossed her face in that instant and her eyes said more than I'd ever imagined they would. Even for the trained professional in me, she was hard to read. What she said next led me to believe that despite this, I was making some headway.

"Me too."

"We have something in common, then," I said, looking her in the eye as I removed my glasses, perching them atop my head.

"Why should I trust you?"

I could almost feel the headway I'd believed myself to be making slip through my fingers, and I panicked a little internally, momentarily questioning my ability to regain traction, to get deep enough inside the mind of this young, tortured soul to understand and bring it back life.

"Because everybody needs someone."

She sighed deeply then, almost resigning herself to the fact that talking was the only alternative to keeping whatever hell she had lived locked inside of her forever.

"They used to hit me. Not now, but when I was younger. Now they're just hateful fuckers."

"Did they do it often?" I heard this story and ones similar to it so often in this job, but not one of them affected me any less than the last. Some people may not agree, but I think that if you start to become desensitized to stories of young children and teens being abused, it's time to look for another job.

"Yeah, every day for a long time. Became a little less when I got old enough that I could potentially say somethin' about it, and a lot less when I got big enough to start fightin' 'em off me. But I always knew neither one of them really wanted me. I was their little mistake. You know how sometimes if a couple go through with an unplanned pregnancy, they learn to love the baby anyway? That wasn't my parents. I don't even know why they kept me, to be honest. Maybe they felt like they didn't have other choices, I don't know, but I wish they'd have chosen different."

_I wish they'd have chosen different. _

The phrase rolled over and over in my mind for what seemed like hours until I finally remembered where I'd always heard it.

_Dear Melinda, _

_After you spending yet another month a world away from me in London, I can't say that I miss you any less but I hope that you are adjusting and maybe even learning to like it. I hope that you are doing the best you can to hide our contact from your parents, and that we can continue to write without them finding out. Your letters are the highlights in some very stressful, bleak days. Mom is still the same as always, picking the bottle over anything else. We got into one of our infamous fights the other day, her ending up with a bruised ego, myself a blackened eye and fat lip. I'm always grateful for a friend having an open couch in those instances, and I crashed there until things blew over. On a more positive note I'm pouring myself into school and can't wait to be done and move forward onto something that really matters to me. Sometimes I want to give up and just follow you across the world, but there's always been a cop in me, and I want to make you proud. I know you want me to hold on to my dream, and I don't know if I could do it without knowing that even from a distance, you're behind me. I hope you know that whatever dream you choose to go after, I will be behind you, too. I know you say you're not sure yet what you're meant to do, but I'm sure you'll figure it out. After high school is when the journey really begins, and I can only hope that we can walk it together. I hate that your parents have presented us with so many hurdles to get over. As sure as I am that I'd go to the ends of the earth for you, I also believe that people make choices. I fail to understand how someone could choose to condemn something as pure and beautiful as dedication and love. As much as I know you love your parents, I seriously wish they'd have chosen different. The choice to be open would make this a whole lot easier, but I guess nothing worth having comes easy, right?_

_Write soon, so I know you're okay._

_Love to the ends of the earth and all the way back,_

_Liv._

"Mommy, Mommy, MOMMYYYYY!"

I laughed as the sound of my son's excitement pulled me out of the fog I had allowed my brain to drift into on the way over to pick him up. I rarely gave myself permission to recall the contents of any of Olivia's old letters, but in the moments something triggered the memory of them against my will (which is exactly what had happened at work earlier today) I could, embarrassingly, remember many of them word for word.

"Hi baby!" I pasted a smile on my face, grateful that my child was still young enough he didn't understand the complexities of life; that he couldn't read the thoughts taking up space in my head. "Did you have fun at Daddy's?"

"Yeah! We played race cars and I won! I always win."

The dimples he'd inherited from his father were accentuated when he smiled the toothy grin that could make anyone's bad day better. There was definitely no question in paternity, but I felt he was a good mixture of both of us. My curly hair, and our mixed races affording him a colouring lighter than mine but darker than his father's. He had his dad's goofy and playful, sometimes incredibly stubborn nature, but in many instances also showed mass amounts of my intelligence, exuding a quiet compassion and sincerity beyond his six years.

"Are you sure Daddy didn't just let you win?" I asked, trying not to laugh at the mock wounded look on his face.

"No! He says he does, but I know that's not true. I win because I'm good at racing cars."

Laughing, I picked him up, putting him on my hip, momentarily reminded of and saddened by the fact that my only baby wasn't such a baby anymore.

"You're so big. Daddy must make you eat your vegetables, hmmm?"

"I do," he said, coming in from the kitchen, his voice startling me slightly. "Contrary to what you may think, it's not a free-for-all over here now that we're separated, Melinda."

"Don't tell me what I think. I know you're a good, responsible parent, never have I questioned that." I kept my voice as calm and even as possible, not wanting to frighten the innocent child I held in my arms.

"It doesn't have to be this way, you know. We could work it out. I believe there's still a shot."

_yeah, that's what I've led you to believe, _I thought, hating myself for being less than honest with him, but wondering if he was right all at the same time.

"Nate, I'm not having this conversation with you right now, okay? We've been over this."

"And you always evade any actual conversation on the subject."

I sighed deeply, knowing that there was more than a little truth in his statement. As much as I hated to admit it, I felt like if I didn't acknowledge the cloud hanging between us, it didn't exist. We were never married, but we may as well have been. I'd met Nate while finishing up my degree and had, for the most part, been very content. My parents had been thrilled I'd brought a man home, and in their minds, the Olivia phase in my life was over. There were times I'd started to believe that myself. As much as I'd grown to deeply care for and even love him, he raised a lot of things into question for me. Was I gay, or had I just fallen for Olivia? Did it make me bisexual because I'd now been with both a man and a woman, and had different kinds of love for each of them? Was it necessary to label myself at all? I didn't know. Nate knew nothing of my history with Olivia, and as much as I hated withholding it from him, I wanted to keep it that way. After our break up, I'd told everyone that it had simply been irreconcilable differences, which hadn't been a complete lie, nor the entire truth.

"I'll think about it, all right? We can talk over coffee next time I pick him up."

"All right."

I repositioned the now almost sleeping child who had become dead weight in my arms, and he stirred a little.

"Say goodbye to Daddy, honey, okay?"

"Bye Daddy," he said sleepily, making brief eye contact as my ex kissed his cheek and ruffled his curls.

"Bye, dude. I love you. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Love you."

Leaving the house with my son growing increasingly drowsy against me, I wondered too many things. If a love could grow that hadn't been there the first time if I gave Nate the answer I knew he wanted to hear the next time I went and collected Brice from him, or if I'd love out of convenience for the rest of my life just so that my son could have his family together. If real love even truly existed, or if it was merely a fragment of my past.

**##**

"God, this case is kicking my ass." I sat at my desk, pouring over the same information for the thousandth time, the words all starting to blur together in front of me as well as in my mind. I was frustrated at myself for being so off my game. Usually I could find links between victims and perps faster than anyone, but the last few days I'd failed to be able to pull myself out of my own head, consequently lagging far behind everyone else.

"You're not the only one baby girl, this stuff is probably ninety percent of the reason I'm still alive," he said smiling, placing a tall Styrofoam cup in my hand.

"Aw, thanks Fin," as I sipped, I was incredibly grateful not to have to consume more of the precinct's infamous coffee.

"You're welcome, you look like you need it."

"God, do I look that bad? Maybe I need to start carrying make-up to work to cover the ugly," I smirked, turning my face away from him and back to the papers in front of me.

"Of all the words I could use to describe you, Olivia, ugly wouldn't even be on the short list," I could feel my partner's smile, even though I wasn't looking at him.

"Thank you, El. That's sweet, you can stop making me blush now," I said, laughing.

"Why don't you all pack it in? You've been pouring over this for hours, and we're not gonna get anywhere if my detectives are all dead on their feet."

I heard Cragen's voice before I saw him, as my head was still bowed, mindlessly scanning the papers on my desk. Nobody else put up any arguments, but it would've been unlike me not to.

"I'll stay, Capt, I have no plans tonight anyway." As much as I wanted sleep, I wanted even more to nail this son of a bitch to the wall.

"Do you ever?" I heard the smirk in his voice, and wanted to punch him.

"Screw you, Stabler."

"Yeah, you wish."

"That's enough! Liv, go home. I can tell this case is getting under everyone's skin, and a few of you seem to really need time apart from each other. Don't argue, that's an order."

"Fine."

I hastily stacked my papers, filing them away in my desk so they'd be easily accessible the next time I needed them, and retrieved my coat from my locker where I kept it. In no mood to go home, yet not wanting to chance disobeying a direct order, I headed off in a different direction from everyone else, hoping she'd still be in her office.

"Cabot. Uh huh. Yeah. What? That's insane! You can't expect me to be ready by then. No. Okay, sure. I'll see what I can do. You're welcome. Bye."

I stood in the doorjamb, trying not to eavesdrop on the one-sided conversation until she hung the receiver back in its cradle on her desk and looked up at me.

"Olivia. Do you need something?"

"Nothing work related, no. Cragen told us to pack it in for the night and I didn't feel much like going home. I was hoping you'd be here and maybe have a second to talk."

"Of course. I'll probably be here all night anyway. What's up? Oh God, coffee!" Her eyes moved downward, ogling over the barely touched cup in my hand.

"Want some?" I asked, laughing. "It's still hot."

"Thanks," she held the cup, long slender fingers encircling the middle, letting it warm her hands a few minutes before sipping out of the hole in the top of the lid and handing it back. "I keep trying to kick the habit. It's my resolution every New Years', but in this line of work, with the late nights, sometimes it's just not plausible."

I took it upon myself to sit in a chair opposite her, crossing my legs. "Hey, you're preaching to the choir on that one. I'm right there with you."

There was a moment of silence between us that wasn't awkward, but couldn't be defined as comfortable or companionable either, until I picked the conversation back up.

"So, how are you and Darryl doing?"

"We're great, thanks for asking. I'm glad the wedding is finally over. We're talking kids, just want to enjoy each other a little longer first."

"Aw, that's awesome. You'll be a great Mom. I'm not entirely sure the world could handle more little Alex's running around though."

"Hey, you and I both. If there is a God at all, they'll take after their father," she laughed lightly, but quickly became serious again. "So what is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"I don't know. No one thing really. I just didn't wanna go home. I think Casey and I broke up, so it would've been back to my old place."

"Oh, Olivia, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. You know me, badass Benson."

"You don't always have to be so tough, you know. I know that's not really who you are inside. You can cry once in a while, I wouldn't hold it against you."

"I know, and that's why I appreciate you so much."

She smiled, "what happened?"

**##**

_"__Fuck you, Olivia!" _

_Surprisingly, the words didn't sting as much as I'd thought they would, considering all that was inevitably about to happen. I wondered if it was the words themselves, or who was saying them that made the difference. The difference between Melinda and Casey, was that Melinda could never stay mad. Casey on the other hand, harboured long, ridiculous grudges. I seldom allowed myself to go to the place in my mind where the brown skinned woman had taken up space. I didn't give myself permission to review her letters, miss her presence, or even speak her name. Not in the presence of anyone else, especially not Casey. While alone, I soaked up every memory of her that I could, fearing I'd forget her if I didn't. I wondered silently why the contact between us had suddenly just stopped. Had she realized in adulthood that young love was something to be left in the past? Moved on with someone else? I had started many a letter in attempt to rekindle contact and start afresh, but had never finished one. I didn't know what to say, didn't want to disturb anything good she may have going. As much as I missed her, I wanted her to be happy. Did that happiness lie with me? I doubted that now. Some small part of me wished that she still thought of me from time to time. Even if I should let go, I had a hard time doing so. She'd always made me believe it was never okay to settle, and now that's exactly what I was doing. I wondered often if she was, too._

**##**

"Earth to Olivia?!"

"Oh, shit, sorry, what? I spaced out."

"I asked you what happened? Between you and Casey."

"Oh. Different lifestyles, I guess."

She perched her black glasses atop her head so they held back her hair, cocking an eyebrow at me. "That's pretty vague."

"Have you ever wanted someone you can't have?"

"Changing the subject, detective?" She smirked, sticking her tongue out through her teeth.

"No, I'm just asking."

"Honestly? Yeah, sure."

"Who was it?" I uncrossed my legs, leaning in closer, genuinely intrigued by the fact that Alex Cabot had experienced any form of unrequited love.

"You really wanna know?"

"I wouldn't have asked you otherwise."

"You."

I leaned back, staring, unsure if I'd heard her right. "Me?! When? Are you..bisexual?"

"I'm not much for labels, though I have no issue with people who feel comfortable using them. I fall in love with a person, not their genitalia. It was a long time ago, Liv. I had just started here, was single, and had found out from Fin you were gay. I thought you were hot and wanted to get to know you, but you were with someone and I'm not a home wrecker. I'm happy to have gotten to know you as a really close friend, and I love you deeply even if it'll never happen. I'm happy with my husband and I want you to be happy, too."

"So, you're not settling?"

"No, not at all, why?"

"What happens if you're not sure where you stand with one person, but truly love someone else?"

"Honey, you're being really cryptic and vague and I have no real idea what the hell you're trying to say, but when you love someone, and you know it's real, you hold on like hell and never let go."


	3. Chapter 3

**Away From Her  
>Chapter 3<strong>

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Law and Order SVU or any affiliated characters. Any additional characters or situations I've created in this work of fiction are figments of my own imagination and intended to bear no real resemblance to any actual persons or their lives.

**A/N: **So here's part three. Before you start reading I'd just like to note that I had Stabler present in the last couple chapters. I know in actuality Rollins, Amaro, and Stabler are not ever present together because of Elliot's departure at the end of season 12/beginning of 13. However, they are all/will all be present in this story. It's AU and just what was floating in my head, so I mixed all the characters up a bit even if they don't all appear together. It should also be noted that I didn't really have a particular episode/season in mind for this to be set around/after so it follows no actual or chronological timeline of the show. I hope you guys like it! Thanks as always to everyone for their follows, favourites, reviews and support!

"Melinda, you have to know how much I love you."

I sat at my ex's kitchen table, small and rustic, the wood worn from many years of use. It was funny to me how somewhere I'd been so many times before, somewhere I'd once made a home, could feel so unfamiliar and foreign now. In attempt to disguise the slight tremor showing itself in my fingers, I picked up the mug of decaf coffee Nate had offered me some time ago, clinging to it tightly as I sipped, not caring that it had gone cold.

"I do know that, honey. I know you often think I don't, but I do."

"Then what is it that's holding you back so much from giving us another shot? Wouldn't you like to see Brice have his family back together?"

I set down the mug harder than I meant to, forgetting our son was sleeping on the couch in the next room and silently praying I hadn't woken him. Though he was only six, people were amazed at his maturity and intelligence; he understood a lot more than even we realized, and the conversation his father and I were having didn't need witnesses.

Running my hands over my face, I thought quickly but carefully about how I would answer his questions. I knew he was playing the guilt trip card, and I also knew if I didn't tread carefully, it could get ugly if his emotions got the best of him.

"Everyone has that fairytale idea of love in their head when they get with someone, Nate. Regardless of whether two people stay together for the rest of their lives or not, love isn't like that. It's work. Give and take. Sometimes two people just don't work together. I would love for our son to grow up with both of his parents in the same home, but not to the exclusion of each others' happiness or well being. Do you not think it'd be better for him to be in two separate homes and see genuine happiness and relationships than to be in the same home and have a skewed idea of what love and life is really supposed to be like?"

"Valid point," his voice sounded resigned, defeated. I was surprised at how out of character he was, but even more surprised that he didn't beg or plead or put up a fight. Maybe I hadn't given him enough credit for the kind of man he was when we'd been together.

"Listen, I need to go away for a while. Take some time off work, I have some things I need to take care of. I was hoping you'd be able to watch Brice for me. I know it's not our usual schedule, and if you can't I can leave him with my parents or someone else, but you are his father so I asked you first."

"Of course I can take him. How long do you need?"

"A week, at least. Potentially more, but if so I'll call you," I explained all of this with an air of feigned confidence, hoping he wouldn't probe with more questions.

"Okay, that's fine. I'll change my schedule around to suit. Where are you going and when?"

Shit out of luck. After having had so many years together, I apparently still hadn't learned inquisitions and probing were at times second nature to him. I tried to be as honest as possible while not giving away the entire truth of something I wasn't ready for him to understand.

" New York. Next week. To confront my past."

**##**

"Did I ever even mean anything to you?"

Sitting cross legged on the floor of my dingy apartment made me miss the more lavish, spacious one Casey and I had shared. I felt guilty about the events that had transpired between us and broken us up, knowing the weight of fault was mostly on my shoulders.

"Of course you did! We wouldn't have been together so long if you didn't," I meant that much, even if she didn't know the whole truth of my past. Shifting myself closer to her, I reached for her hands, grasping them and running my thumbs over their backs in slow, gentle circles, a ritual I had always done to relax or calm her while we were together. Instead of shying away and the atmosphere becoming fogged with awkwardness, she seemed to accept the offer of my comfort and lean into the touch even more.

"Then where did we go wrong?"

I sighed deeply, positioning myself closer still, so that the outside of our thighs were almost touching each other, hoping that the physical closeness would show her that I really did care deeply about her no matter what.

"I think it was mostly just differences in opinion and stuff, Case. A lot of it was my fault, and I admit it. I'm sorry that I hurt you."

"We hurt each other," she said, casting her gaze downward toward her lap. "I'm sorry, too. I can't let you take all the blame."

"We're at really different places in our lives, similar though we may be," as much as I cared about her, and probably always would, there was as much difference between us as there was similarity. "you know what it's like to be married to your job, and that was a big thing that kept us together for a while, understanding that part of each others' lives. There came a point though where that changed for you. We veered into different directions, taking our differing priorities with us. You want a baby, and I understand, I do. I have that pull too, I love kids, you know that, but I can't give that to you. I'm not there yet. I'm not ready to give up my job."

"For anyone, or just for me?"

I'd feared the question that had spilled from her lips was coming eventually, and I knew I needed to be delicate in my approach to answering it.

"I think that goes hand in hand with being with the right person, doesn't it? When it feels right, it's just something that's a natural progression in the relationship, not something you really over think. I care deeply for you, but it just didn't feel like a natural next step on my end."

The hurt in her eyes was so apparent they looked like glass, fragile and ready to break. I hated that I loved her and was still doing this to her. I hated that I had gotten myself in so deep with someone, while still unable to release the pent up emotions of my past.

"I understand," the voice I heard was not hers. Confused, masked with feigned indifference and compassion all at the same time. I knew her too well not to know that she was seething inside, and didn't really understand at all. I couldn't blame her, as I currently didn't understand or like myself all that much. "I wouldn't have wanted you to keep putting on a front and have a child with me just to keep me happy, anyway. I'm glad you didn't."

"You know me better than that. I may have made a lot of mistakes in my life, but I'm not one to make a child suffer for my own selfish benefit."

"I know," she flashed me a small, sad smile and spoke again, trying to will her voice not to crack. "just feels like it's never gonna happen, y'know?"

I did know, and all too well. The rewards that came with the job were often outweighed by so much emptiness. You could be surrounded by people who knew exactly how you felt, because they felt the same things, and still feel completely isolated and alone. Seeing so much evil and so many forms of ugly could make you crazy if you let it, and on days faith in the rest of humanity wore thin, it was hard not to.

"I know honey. I promise, I understand. I don't have the same job as you, but I can relate. As cliche as it may sound, your time will come. Someday somebody who is right for you is gonna appreciate all of you, and you'll have a beautiful family. You'll forget all about me and wonder why in hell you couldn't have found them sooner."

"You're not the kind of person someone forgets, Liv, but thank you," she smiled again, more genuinely this time as she got up to leave. "I should get going, I gotta be at work early tomorrow."

"Alright," I said, getting up to walk the short distance to the front door and see her out. "I'll come by your place soon to get the rest of my stuff."

"Sure, no problem. Whenever you want, just let me know ahead and I'll make sure I'm home."

"'kay, I will."

"Hey, Olivia?" she turned to me, her hand perched lightly on my doorknob.

"Yeah?"

"I know we're over, and I came here to get some answers, but.. can I kiss you? Just, y'know, one more time. For closure?"

I was slightly taken aback by her request, but understood her well enough to know why she'd asked. "Sure...for closure."

For the last time I ever would, I leaned into her. I hoped she knew how sorry I was, how much I cared, as I granted her tongue access to the inside of my mouth, and my hand caressed her cheek.

**##**

Stepping out onto the street attempting to hail a cab, I heard the buzzes and beeps of my phone from the deep confines of my pocket. I hated leaving my patients for any extended length of time, but a former colleague had once tried to stress to me the importance of taking time to take care of yourself. I'd finally heeded her advice, having confidence that leaving them with a trusted stand in and my emergency contact information would suffice for a while. I realized standing there shielding my face from the wind, how much I'd forgotten about New York, how many little things I didn't really miss all that much. Aside from Olivia, I started to think that maybe there hadn't been as much tying me to this city as I used to believe. The jet lag from the flight and five hour time difference had hit me hard and had me completely down for the count holed up in my hotel room the first few days after I'd arrived. Today was the day I'd decided to brave the weather as well as the storm of emotions all coexisting unwillingly inside me, and go in search of the reason I'd come.

As I ducked into the cab I'd finally managed to flag, I felt guilt wash over me for not having kept better contact. With so much more technology readily available compared to when we'd been children, there was really no excuse. It probably would have been easier to maintain contact now than it had been then if I'd re initiated it. In an era where we're all supposed to be able to be so readily available to one another, there was an incredible disconnect in communication. I knew that I'd stopped writing so frequently once college and university had come, and completely so after I'd met and become involved with Nate. Olivia probably didn't know what to think or say, and I suddenly hated myself for deserting her.

Even though I'd unintentionally severed contact between us and been at a loss as to how to rekindle it after a period of time, I had on occasion heard bits and pieces of her career and was proud of what she was doing. Many people knew she was one of New York's finest detectives, and having known her on the level I did, it wasn't hard to grasp why.

The car pulled up to the 16th precinct, and I hastily paid the cabby the correct fare. I wanted things to go quickly and in slow motion all at the same time. Walking inside, I saw groups of detectives and other officers, none whose faces I recognized. They all seemed to be particularly busy, but one must've noticed me seemingly dazed and confused, because he walked toward me with the same sort of expression.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, actually. I'm looking for Detective Olivia Benson?"

"Oh, she's actually taking some rare time off today. Do you need to report something? 'Cause I can have another one of our female detectives talk to you."

A petite blonde lady, hair in a ponytail, sat working a few feet away at a desk and perked up at the mention of the words "_another one of our female detectives."_

"No, no. It's nothing like that, I'm Melinda, a friend of Olivia's. We go back quite a ways. I'm only in town for a little while. Do you know where she may be?"

"Actually, yeah. She told me this morning she had a lunch thing today, lemme get a piece of paper and I'll jot down the address for you."

"Thank you."

"No problem," he said, turning his back to me and rummaging in another nearby desk for a pen and scrap piece of paper. I waited patiently as he scribbled furiously upon finding one.

"Fin honey, you need me?" the blonde piped up from across the room.

"Naw, she's not a vic, Rollins, it's okay. Friend of Liv's."

"Liv has friends outside of work?" she smirked playfully, sticking her tongue out, and despite not even knowing her I could tell she was approachable and probably wouldn't be hard to like.

"I guess so," he handed me a piece of old legal paper with the address of a restaurant scrawled on it. "there ya go, I hope you can find her alright. If you need anything, come on back."

"Thanks, I'm sure I'll be fine."

**##**

As I sat across the table from Alex Cabot and Daryl Crawford, I noted how truly in love they looked. Though the proverbial 'honeymoon stage' of their marriage was far from over, I had no doubts they would remain that way long after it had passed, and I was incredibly happy that Alex could now say she had that kind of happiness in her world. Having gotten to know her as a close personal friend over the years, I knew she often put up a front coming off as detached and cold, pretending like she didn't need anyone. I'd been fortunate enough to become one of the few she let close, and I saw her at some of her most vulnerable points. I knew how lonely she'd really felt. Sometimes I'd been the one there to help her pick up the pieces. Contentment definitely suited her better.

"I'm glad you came, Olivia."

I'd told her I had a rare bit of time off and she'd insisted I tag along to lunch with her and her new husband, stating that it was bad for me to sit around home and mope about the situation between Casey and I. I did agree with her on the better than being at home part, but she hadn't believed me when I'd told her I'd reached a point of peace with regards to the Casey situation.

"I am, too. Thanks for asking me to come along."

"No problem, you know you're welcome any time. Any friend of Alex's is a friend of mine. We're both always glad to have the company," Daryl said, smiling warmly at me. I hadn't spent all that much time with him, but in that moment I could tell Alex had picked a genuinely great guy and I only hoped to be afforded the privilege of getting to know him even better.

"I appreciate that. I spend a lot of time alone in my feelings, but I'm sure Alex has told you."

"She's told me so much about the work that you do, and I admire that a lot. You have to be a special kind of person to excel in that career."

"Aw, thank you. It's not an easy job, but I do love it."

I sipped on my water for a moment while observing the newlyweds engaged in quiet conversation of their own. Something had come up about Alex deciding not to change her last name to Crawford when they'd gotten married, and I was about to interject myself into their playful banter when I felt a hand on my shoulder, coupled with a voice I'd know anywhere, even after years of not hearing it.

"Olivia?"

"Melinda?!"

"Hi." she smiled shyly, as if she were afraid to be interrupting something she shouldn't have been, but I could see excitement pooled behind the depths of her dark brown eyes as I stared straight back into them. Not knowing what to say, I went for the simplest answer.

"Hi," I said. I had so many questions, so much to say, but I wasn't about to do it in front of Daryl and Alex. "what are you doing here?"

"I was in town," she probably knew that I was aware she was lying. There wasn't really a reason for her to return here now besides me, but I gathered that she too, didn't want to make a scene in front of my friends. "I thought I would come see you, too."

"Uh, guys, this is an old friend of mine, Melinda Warner. Melinda, this is Alex Cabot, one of our ADAs and her husband, Daryl Crawford," I stumbled upon my words trying to pull myself together.

"Nice to meet you," they both said in unison, Alex throwing a raised brow in my direction.

"And you," Melinda replied, smiling, then returned her gaze to me making me blush.

"I think we should leave these two alone," Alex whispered to her husband, loud enough for us both to hear. Nodding his head, Daryl followed his wife's lead, getting up from the table and going in search of a new one. Before she was out of my line of vision, Alex turned on her heel, locked gazes with me and winked.


End file.
